


I'm Sorry

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Langst, M/M, klangst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 13:23:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10877667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After Lance's self worth is shattered, the Voltron team struggles to bring his self confidence back up to it's original extremity. But just when they think they've succeeded- their world comes crashing down.





	1. Chapter 1

Lance didn’t mean for everything to spin out of control.

He didn’t do it because he missed his family.

He didn’t do it because he doubted his position on the team.

He did it because the Paladins proved he didn’t have a position on the team.

He had meant to help Allura. He thought that maybe some of the trauma would ease if she talked about her fond memories of Altea.

She hadn’t shared the belief.

“I do not want to talk about a planet that does not exist anymore.” She had snapped at Lance, glaring at him darkly. He had never heard such a harsh tone come from Allura, and as soon as he fully realized he had crossed a line that was not meant to be crossed, he made moves to apologize.

Allura was so wrapped up in anxiety and anger- which should not be an excuse- that she had cut him off with a shove. 

A little harsh on her part, but Lance convinced himself that she had every right to do so. It was what she said afterwards that really messed him up.

“I do not care what your intentions were. I do not want your help. You do more harm than good. I was a fool to make you the blue paladin.” 

That alone hit Lance extraordinarily hard.

It was one of his many insecurities, and Allura had just confirmed that he was right to doubt his position on the team.

She hadn’t meant it of course, but she was so wrapped up in her silent anger, that it had fallen from her lips before she could stop it.

She turned away, ignoring Lance’s presence.

“Understood, Princess.” Lance apologized briefly, and left.

Allura, having been turned around, did not take notice of the tears rolling down Lance’s cheeks, nor did she see the emotional damage she had just caused.

Lance decided to retreat to his room, avoid the Paladins, and Coran, but he ran into Shiro on his way.

Lance had looked sick. 

Stuffed nose, pinkish hue on his face, his eyes were red, and he had kept his head down. Shiro shrugged it off, not saying anything. If Lance had a sickness he thought was bad enough that he needed to be put in the medical pods, he’d ask for it.

Shiro didn’t realize how far from the truth that assumption really was.

Shiro didn’t realize that Lance was on the verge of having a mental breakdown.

Shiro didn’t realize that him ignoring Lance was pushing him that much closer to leaving Voltron for good.

It was around eleven at night, when Lance began roaming the corridors of the Castle.

He was looking for any kind of noise that could silence the thoughts in his head. The thoughts that were slowly causing him to deteriorate from the inside out.

That’s when he found Pidge.

They were working in the Hall of Lions, and Lance had known to keep quiet. He didn’t want to startle them.

He hadn’t meant to, at least.

He had sat quietly nearby, watching them work, accepting the calmer silence. It had silenced the voices in his head.

Pidge turned around, attempting to grab a tool from the tool box behind them, and saw Lance three feet away.

“Jesus CHRIST Lance?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Pidge jumped up and shouted, clutching their chest, adrenaline slowly fading as they continued to look down at him. 

Lance jumped at the sound, and processing the words, he assumed he was unwanted.

He apologized, stood, and left.

Pidge was beyond confused.

He had scared them. They had reacted according to circumstance.

Had Lance thought they were angry?

Well, that much was obvious, but normally he would have laughed it off, and stuck around. Not apologized and left immediately afterwards.

Pidge was the first to realize something was wrong with Lance.

So how would they address it?

Lance, by this point, was desperate. He needed Hunk, but his friend was asleep, and Lance knew not to wake Hunk up.

He couldn’t stand to hear Hunk yell at him too. He knew all too well what kind of person Hunk was when he was forcefully woken up. Even if Lance was on the brink of breaking down, Hunk would be blinded by sleep deprivation that he wouldn’t take notice until it was too late.

Then he found Keith at the training deck, and he concluded that he was the next best thing.

Keith took down sentry after sentry, and Lance watched from the open doors. 

Lance knew that Keith was a great fighter from the beginning, but he was always entranced by the movements Keith made while training, although he never let it show.

Since the entire day had been draining, he didn’t have the strength to keep up his facade.

Once Keith had finished the level, Lance spoke.

“Level seventeen, huh? Impressive! You should really tutor me some time.” Lance laughed, although it was fake, he hoped it would be believable.

It was a genuine compliment- he didn’t have the strength to be sarcastic.

Keith didn’t realize it was genuine. He thought it was a taunt.

He didn’t realize how much of an effect that the next few words would have on his teammate.

“Lance, get lost. I don’t want you around.” Keith snapped.

Lance’s stomach lurched, his chest tightened, and there was a lump in his throat.

It had happened again.

He was brushed off.

Insulted.

By Allura. 

By Shiro. 

By Pidge. 

And now, Keith.

Lance looked down, processing every last word that had been spoken to him that day. 

After a few seconds, he breathed deeply, and raised his eyes to meet Keith’s.

Keith had never seen such a sad expression on anyone but himself.

And Keith knew all too well what kind of emotions came with an expression like that.

Lance smiled.

Keith felt sick.

“I’m sorry.”

Without much else, he left Keith to process the situation.

 

That was three hours ago.

Now, Lance sat on the edge of his bed, crimson staining the floor, and his arms.

There were sixteen cuts.

All varying in size, shape, and depth.

But they all had one thing in common.

They wouldn’t stop bleeding.

Did he care?

No.

Should he?

In his opinion- No.

He simply stared at the blood draining from his veins. 

Absolutely still. 

But the tears fell either way. They were silent at first. Simple tears that fell from his blue eyes that dropped to the floor, mixing with the small puddle of blood.

He looked to his clock. It read as 2:57 AM.

He knew he needed sleep. But he didn’t want it. 

He knew he needed to clean and bandage his arms. But he didn’t want to.

He wanted the blood to rush out, taking all the hurt with them.

And when it didn’t, he simply made more.


	2. Chapter 2

Allura hadn’t got that much sleep that night.

She was aware that she had hurt Lance, and realized he was offering her comfort, as a good teammate- and friend- ought to have done.

But Allura, she had only responded with hate. She had insulted him. She had told him he was useless, and that he didn’t deserve to be the blue paladin.

But now that she had cleared her head, she realized just how wrong she was for saying such a thing to him.

Not only did he deserve to be the blue paladin- he had been made to be the blue paladin of Voltron. He had proven himself time and time again, over and over, that he deserved to be here with the team, just as much as anyone else did.

In her desperation to find an acceptable apology for Lance, she had marched straight up to Shiro’s room, knocked on the door, and waited.

The door slid open within two ticks, and Shiro cocked a questioning eyebrow at Allura.

“I need to talk to you. May I come in?” Shiro didn’t know what about, but he let Allura in either way, nodding, and watching from the still open door as she sat down on the edge of his bed, holding her head in her hands.

“Princess? What’s wrong?” Shiro asked hurriedly, closing the door and walking over to where she sat, crouching down to her level. He tensed when he saw that her cheeks were tear stained.

* * *

 

“Allura?” He questioned, concern littered across his expression. Allura shook her head in response, and inhaled shakily.

“Shiro, I… I hurt him.” Allura managed to choke the words out, and her voice threatened to crack. Shiro was confused, but comforted her either way, stroking her hair and rocking her slightly.

“Allura, who did you hurt?” Shiro asked calmly, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly, patiently awaiting an answer.

She sighed sadly, a pitiful expression the only insight to what might’ve happened.

“Lance. Last night. I told him that I was a fool for making him the blue paladin. He was just trying to **help** me with my own pain and I had to go and take my anger out on him instead of saying _thank you_. Like a normal person would.” Allura gestured outwards in exasperation, as if illustrating her point further.

A picture of Lance’s stuffy nose, pink tinged, and tear stained face popped up into Shiro’s train of thought, and tingles of anxiety bloomed in his stomach. Without thinking, Shiro mumbled to himself. 

“ _ That’s why he looked so bad _ .” Shiro looked to the floor, and before he realized it, Allura was tensing, and turned to face him. 

“You saw him last night? After I yelled at him?” Allura took Shiro by the shoulders, shaking him lightly. Her voice was laced with panic. He nodded stiffly. 

“How am I going to apologize to Lance?! I hurt him so badly, Shiro- you won’t be able to form Voltron if Lance is in pain- and even if you didn’t need to form Voltron anytime soon, Lance is still a member of this team, and he deserves to be happy.” Her hands found their way to her hair, and she stared at the floor with wide, panicked eyes. Shiro was slightly taken aback by her ranting, but smiled warmly as he processed her words. 

“Tell him exactly how you feel. Apologize sincerely.” Shiro responded, rubbing circles on her back. Allura thought quietly for a moment, before rising calmly and nodding her head briefly. 

She turned to Shiro, who now was looking at her proudly, and a little shocked. Her emotions were a little erratic at the moment, he concluded, but went along with whatever she had planned. 

"This will need to be a group effort. I am not going to be the only one on this team treating him kindly from now on. We all include him, compliment him, praise him, and bond with him. I refuse to have one of my paladins consistently unhappy. Shiro, I am going to need your help talking to the others- especially Hunk. I don’t know what he’ll do to me when he finds out what I told Lance.” Shiro and Allura collectively shivered.

“Understood, princess.” Shiro nodded, and rose from the bed.

“Thank you for helping me, Shiro. I really do appreciate it.” Allura smiled fondly, which Shiro mistakenly assumed was gratitude, and took her leave. 

“I’ll see you in the control room soon!” Allura called behind her shoulder, leaving Shiro to his own thoughts. 

Shiro had a lot of apologizing to do as well. He had brushed off Lance’s own feelings and problems, and he felt like shit for it. 

Allura was determined to set things right between her and Lance, and marched her ass down to the control room. Once there, she pulled up a transparent screen, and clicked a few buttons, dragged a few knobs down, and there was the sound of a soft alarm.  

It wasn’t blaring, but it wasn’t loud enough to where you could ignore it. She played it in every room except for Lance’s. She needed to talk to every paladin except for him. She needed to discuss the issues they were making when they came into contact with Lance.  

She needed to fix this. 

And she was going to fix it right. Now.

Pidge, Keith, Hunk, Coran, and Shiro all made their way to the control room, their thoughts seemingly somewhere else.

Pidge was looking down at the ground, timing their steps.

Keith was looking forward solemnly, lost in thought.

Shiro was focused on the task at hand.

Coran was fiddling with the end of his mustache.

Hunk’s stomach was aching for some food.

They entered the control room as a collective unit, the team taking notice that Lance was not in the room with them.

Coran sighed, and made his way to the exit.

“I’ll go wake the boy up.” Coran sighed sleepily, and Allura stopped him before he could physically leave.

“Coran, I purposely did not wake him up. I called you here specifically to talk about Lance.” The team, excluding Shiro, tensed, and anxiety blossomed in their guts.

“What about Lance?” Hunk was the first to speak, anxiety evident in his voice. 

The aura of the room was cold… Too cold.

“There is no need for alarm Hunk- I checked on Lance earlier. Physically speaking, he is unharmed.” Allura lied, images of Lance’s crimson stained floor coming to mind, memories of her crying in the doorway. 

‘ _ Thank god he’s a deep sleeper _ .’ Allura thought to herself, images of the now cleaned and properly bandaged cuts across Lance’s forearms flashing across her train of thought.

She had scrubbed the quiznak out of his floor, and rummaged through a majority of his things(which she argued over doing for who knows how many minutes), and confiscated all sharp items he might have been able to harm himself with. 

She had found him earlier that morning, wanting to apologize, but after finding him in such terrible shape, her confidence shattered, and she didn’t know how to approach the situation.

But now she did.

“We need to talk about the manner in which we treat Lance.” Allura sighed, looking at the ground in disappointment.

“Princess, I can assure you we-” Coran began, but Allura smiled at him reassuringly, showing that she was not upset with any of them.

She turned back to the rest of the group, smiling sadly.

“I have noticed that our attitudes towards him are less than acceptable. In fact, our tendencies to snap at him and reprimand him mercilessly make me angry. Not only that- they damage him and his well being.” Pidge made an act to protest, but Allura raised her hand to silence them.

“I am no exception to this. I made a particularly rude multitude of comments to Lance last night, and I believe I caused him to second guess his position on this team and his usefulness to the rest of us.” Allura’s voice cracked on the last sentence, and the room was eerily silent.

“ _Oh my god_ …” Hunk whispered, and a shiver ran up Allura’s spine.

She inhaled shakily, gathering as much courage as possible to get through the next sentences. 

“He had suggested that I try talking about Altea. He told me it might’ve eased some of the pain that came with losing it. I told him that I didn’t want to talk about a planet that no longer existed.” Allura sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Hesitantly, she continued.

“When he had tried to apologize… I…” 

That’s when the tears began to flow.

They were unrelenting, and they were an endless testament to her guilt.

“I told him that I was a fool to make him the blue paladin. I told him he did more harm than good. That I didn’t want his help. I called him useless! I messed up so badly- I let my quiznaking emotions get the better of me and I took out all my pent up anger out on him- and now he’s upset and doubting himself, and it’s all my fault.” Allura finished off with a sob, and collapsed to the ground.

The team watched as the princess clasped her hands over her face in shame.

None of them knew what to do- but they had a pretty good idea.

Hunk was the first to move towards her, and crouched down to look her in the eye.

“I will never forgive you for hurting my best friend. **Especially** Lance.” Hunk whispered, lifting her chin up to look her in the eyes. Allura’s lip quivered.

“But, I love him enough to where I will help him forgive you.” Hunk smiled, and pulled Allura into a tight hug.

She helplessly sobbed into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his torso. She hadn’t been hugged in such a way since she had needed to delete her father’s AI.

It stung.

But in a good way.

Pidge burst into tears, and rushed to Hunk and Allura, joining in on the cuddle fest, sobbing uncontrollably. They were upset that Allura was the reason that Lance was unhappy last night, but yelling at her wasn’t going to resolve anything for the voltron team, so instead, they joined in.

Coran joined in afterwards, walking forwards and comforting Pidge and Allura.

Before long, Keith and Shiro were tugged into the bunch(much to their discomfort, but they went with it anyway), and they stayed like that for a few ticks, until finally pulling apart.

Allura was the first to speak.

“I think we all know what we have to do.” Allura looked up at the rest of the team, determination dripping off her tone.

Shiro grinned, Coran nodded, Pidge smirked, and Hunk gave her a thumbs up.

They turned to Keith, who had his eyes on a particularly interesting crack in the floor.

He sighed.

“I think I need to do more than that. I need to confess to him.” Keith mumbled, a blush creeping across his cheeks.

“ **Holy quiznak.** ”


	3. Chapter 3

Lance opened his eyes slowly, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of his room.

He rubbed his eyes, and flinched when he rolled onto his arm. He looked down at where his cuts used to be in annoyance, and his eyes widened in a panic.

There were clean white bandages wrapped around his arms, and blotches of crimson peeked out from underneath the bandages wrapped closest to his skin. He sat up, and looked down at the floor, where the puddle of blood was the night before.

There was nothing there. Not a single splatter, and there sure as hell wasn’t any red hue on the floor.

Lance didn’t remember cleaning up the mess. He remembered sitting on his bed, cutting, until he passed out, due to the excessive blood loss. He racked his brain for any memories of the night before, and his anxiety grew worse.

If he hadn’t been the one to clean the blood up- then who was?

Lance heard a knock on his door, and quickly pulled the sleeves of his jacket down over his bandages, and looked at the still closed door in a panic.

“Hey Lance, i-it’s me.” Lance flinched when he heard Keith’s voice, his mind wandering to the words Keith had spoken to him the night before.

“Come in.” Lance called softly, and he turned his gaze to the floor as the door slid open. He could see Keith’s boots out of the corner of his eye as he came closer.

“Hey, I came in to tell you that breakfast is ready.” Keith said, sitting next to Lance on his bed.

“Mm.” Lance mumbled, his gaze still glued to his hands, said hands resting on his lap limply. Keith’s chest tightened, and he had trouble swallowing for a few seconds. He needed to initiate a conversation before things between the two became awkward, and Keith immediately turned to the topic of breakfast.

“Hunk made it. I think it’s called….” Keith racked his brain for the correct term, and turned up fruitless. Oh well. Better wing it.

“Flank de queeso?” Keith tried, a sheepish grin on his face as he turned to look Lance in the eye. Lance snorted, bending over, holding his stomach as he close to died.

“Flank de queeso?!” Lance laughed, falling onto his back on the bed, covering his face with a sleeve covered forearm. He shook, laughing hysterically.

“That is the  _ best _ mispronunciation I have ever heard- Keith, you’re incredible.” Lance gasped, and Keith looked down at the Cuban boy fondly. He looked the complete opposite of last night, and Keith felt a pang of anxiety run through him.

Lance was  _ beautiful _ . Lance and his perfect lips, turned upwards in a wide gleeful smile, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he shook with laughter, and his face glowing.

Sure, Keith had known Lance was an attractive guy the moment he had met him, but now that he got a good look at him, he noticed something entirely new.

Something he never had the chance to legitimately notice.

_ Lance had freckles. _

Sure, there weren’t very many, but they were there, sprinkled across his nose as though someone threw sprinkles onto his face. Keith could feel the blush creeping up his neck like wildfire, and covered his face with his hand.

He felt Lance’s firm grasp on his shoulder, and jumped slightly.

“Dude, I’m just kidding. I get that you aren’t good at Spanish. It isn’t your first language. It’s all good.” Keith stared at Lance, and Lance’s lips quirked into a smile. Keith looked away, sighing at his teammate.

“I came in here for something other than waking you up…” Keith began, clasping his hands together and running his thumb over his knuckles. He felt Lance scoot closer, and rest his chin on his hands.

“Hmm?” Lance hummed, tilting his head to the side expectantly, patiently waiting for Keith to elaborate further. Keith sighed, and looked Lance in the eye.

“About last night, Lance, I… I didn’t know you were complimenting me, I thought… I thought you were taunting me and I didn’t have a witty comeback so I- it came out before I could stop it and I only just recently realized that what I said to you was totally contradictory to how I felt and… And  _ I’m so fucking sorry. _ ” Keith held his head in his hands, sitting rigidly beside Lance.

Lance smiled, and patted Keith’s shoulder.

“Thanks for apologizing Keith. But it isn’t your fault. It’s okay.” Keith’s fists clenched. Lance was too nice for his own damn good. Too forgiving. Keith wanted him to yell, snap at him- anything other than smile at him with that damn twinkle in his eyes.

“No- It _ isn’t _ .” Keith forced through clenched teeth, and Lance’s expression went blank.

“What are you-” Lance pulled back, looking at Keith in confusion before he was cut off.

“It  _ isn’t okay, _ Lance. And it is my fault. I  _ hurt  _ you- I made you upset, and- what I said was abusive, and cruel, and god damn it  _ why  _ aren’t you angry with me? Yell, scream, insult me- anything! I can’t look at you while you smile at me like that knowing that I hurt you!” Keith shook Lance’s shoulders lightly, desperately looking into his ocean blue eyes.

“ _ Please _ .” Keith whispered, his head falling to stare wide-eyed at the wrinkles in the blankets.

A few seconds of silence, and suddenly, Lance was moving towards Keith. He tensed, feeling Lance raise himself out from underneath his blankets. He rose to the balls of his feet, and leaned forward until he was resting his weight on the fronts of his lower legs, his knees sinking into the soft fabric.

“Keith. Look at me.” Lance ordered, lifting Keith’s face to look him in the eyes. The second joint on his index finger rested underneath Keith’s chin, and he used it to keep Keith’s eyes focused on him. Lance had a look of determination on his face, and his eyebrows were knitted together. His eyes were intense, the ring of navy blue around the edge of his iris a dark contrast to the ocean and royal blue flecks scattered across the inner part of his iris, closest to his pupil. Keith stared in awe.

He had never been this close to Lance- and he found that he liked staring at those eyes a lot more than he should’ve.

“I know I should be angry with you. I know that I should want to yell at you. _ I know that I should want to hurt you just as badly as you hurt me _ .” Keith’s eyes widened, and he fought to keep his lower lip still as a lump formed at the back of his throat.

He swallowed hard, and looked back at those haunting blue eyes, deathly still.

“But that isn’t what  _ I  _ want. I don’t want to stay hooked up on issues that have already been resolved. I forgave you the second you opened your mouth and started talking. I could hear it in your tone- you are sorry.” Lance spoke gently, keeping his tone leveled and calm.

“So  _ no _ . I  _ won’t _ yell at you. I am  _ not  _ going to insult you. Nor am I going to hurt you.” Lance brushed Keith’s hair out of his eyes, and gazed at Keith, unnamed emotions swirling through those damned violet eyes. Lance felt heat fly across his cheeks, but continued without a hitch.

“Instead- I am going to forgive you. And I am going to help you forgive yourself. I don’t blame you- I never have. Not once. So stop blaming yourself,  _ god damn it. _ When you’re like this- vulnerable and crumbling, I… I  _ hate it _ .” Lance whispered, cupping Keith’s cheek with his palm, keeping his gaze focused on Keith’s deep violet eyes. Keith stared, pleasantly appalled.

“ _ So stop it- smile at me already! _ ” Lance snapped, pulling Keith into a tight hug. Keith stilled, but returned the hug rather quickly.

Tears began to fall from his eyes as he buried his face in the crook of Lance’s neck, choking back pitiful sobs. Lance pulled Keith closer, ignoring his now numb lower legs and feet.

He sighed, tightening his grip around the other as Keith shook his head sadly.

“ _ I’m so sorry Lance. _ ” Keith whispered, snuggling further into Lance’s chest, and sniffed.

“ _ I know you are, Keith. I know _ .” Lance mumbled soothingly, running his fingers through the baby hairs on Keith’s neck. He sighed in content, closing his eyes.

Silence followed as Keith continued to hold Lance as though he would never see him again. Lance didn’t complain once. He sat through the silence, which was occasionally broken by a muffled sniff(and he enjoyed it too).

It was peaceful, and Keith never wanted to let go of Lance. But he knew he had to, so he reluctantly released his hold on him, and leaned away.

Lance’s fingers left Keith’s neck hesitantly, and Keith almost pulled them back to where they were fiddling with the ends of his hair, but he fought the urge to do so. He was too focused on the fact that there was a pair of blue eyes on him. Lance was busy processing his tear stained cheeks, flushed face, and stuffed nose.

“Keith?” Lance tried lightly, and leaned forward, trying to catch Keith’s gaze.

“Y-Yeah?” Keith asked, wiping his cheeks quickly, and looking up to Lance, a small smile spread across his face.

“It’s called ‘flan de queso’.” Lance joked, laughed, and his serious demeanor shattered as he lit up the room with a wide grin. Keith felt butterflies bloom in his stomach at the sight of a now lighthearted Lance.

“Jackass.” Keith punched Lance’s shoulder with a smirk, the air around them light and friendly.

“Seriously though- did Hunk actually make flan de queso?” Lance asked, cocking a single eyebrow upwards. Keith followed suit, still smirking.

“He did, why?” Keith asked.

“Because if he did he then that means he used my mom’s recipe and you need to try it. Right. Now.” Lance hopped out of his bed excitedly, almost face planting as his feet tangled in his blankets. Keith caught his bicep, and pulled him back to his feet.

“Careful, torpe.” Keith laughed, knowing full well what he had just called Lance. Lance stared at Keith, before fully processing his words, and pursed his lips at Keith.

“ _ I thought you didn’t know Spanish. _ ” Lance grumbled, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I don’t- at least, not  _ fluently _ \- but I’ve picked up a few things from you.” Keith smirked, grabbing Lance’s other hand and pulling him into his chest.

“Surprised?” Keith laughed, looking up at Lance with a devious glint in his eyes.

“Pleasantly so.” Lance smirked, leaning forward to whisper in Keith’s ear.

“OH-KAY that’s enough of that!” Keith shouted in embarrassment, pulling himself away from Lance, who laughed extraordinarily hard at the reaction.

“Your reaction was gold, Keith. I should flirt with you more often if that’s the response I get.” Lance patted Keith’s shoulder, taking his leave to get a taste of the flan de queso Hunk had made. Keith blushed a deep red, almost as deep of a shade as his jacket was, and spluttered for a response, before he realized that Lance was now gone.

“H-Hey!” Keith shouted, running after the lanky Cuban boy.

“Hello to you too Keith!” Lance grinned, his smile unable to hide the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Keith huffed, turning away and pouting. Noticing Keith’s sudden change in attitude, Lance slung his arm loosely around Keith’s waist, and leaned downwards to speak into his ear.

Keith shivered.

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed, Keith. I wish I could make you red in the face more often.” Lance whispered, his voice husky  ~~_ and no Keith was not turned on in the slightest what are you talking about. _ ~~

Lance pulled away, his hand leaving Keith’s waist, and Keith had half a mind to pull it back to where it had been. And he didn’t.

Because he knew it would be a very long time before Keith would be able to confess his true feelings for Lance, and even if he did muster up enough courage to do so, Lance wasn’t interested in Keith in the slightest. Nothing more than teammates. Nothing more than friends.

That hurt him a little more than it should’ve.

But he kept walking, keeping his gaze off of Lance’s lanky figure, and kept his hands at his sides.

He’d rather have Lance as a friend and a teammate, rather than lose him as both just because of his romantic feelings for him. So for the remainder of the time they spent walking to the dining hall where by this point, the rest of the team was impatiently waiting for the two to show up-

( _ ‘I told you guys Shiro should’ve gone, now we’re all stuck down here while the two of them are fucking in Lance’s room.’  ‘PIDGE!’  ‘What?!’ _ )

-they passed the time joking with each other.

Keith felt a wave of relief wash over him.

They could still fix this.

Lance would be okay.

**_Keith didn’t realize how wrong he was._ **


End file.
